Former Auspices
by LxISxAxBABE
Summary: Arthur Kirkland was a mentor for young Alfred when he traveled to England to study abroad. Yet, later, he finds himself visiting the young American, and is that a fondness that he feels? Yaoi, USUK, mild fluffiness and a delicious lemon  M for a reason!


I love USUK. But I also love Arthur playing parent, and often, I can't write a parent-y Arthur as sexy. Mommies and Daddies aren't all that sexy to me. :( Sorry, all you family people! :O So this is finally some nice USUK from me~! I feel accomplished. :3

Disclaimer: I don't own my own car. How in the heck would I own Hetalia? Though I wouldn't mind owning Ivan... teeheeheeheee~

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><p>The Englishmen straightened his tie and sighed as he prepared to approach his student's house. As an honorable man, Arthur Kirkland had promised to mentor the young American while he rested in England. Afterward, as a thank you, he was given free-access to the boy's home. <em>Like I would want to visit him<em>, the blonde had thought, snorting.

But something inexplicable pulled him overseas, and now he was standing on the boy's doorstep, about to pay an impromptu visit. Wouldn't Alfred be surprised and pleased. Arthur didn't doubt that he would be trapped in a bone-crushing bear hug when the young man opened the door, but secretly, Arthur was certain he wouldn't mind.

He rapped his knuckles on the door briskly and waited, hand resting on his hip. When no one answered at first, he panicked. What if he was at the wrong house? Oh, that would be unfortunate, all right. But the door was drawn open.

"Matt, is that you-?" Alfred stopped in his doorframe, and his face lit up. "Arthur!" He leapt forward and, just as predicted, wrapped his arms around the smaller man's frame. "You came! I've missed you!" Arthur blushed lightly.

"Yes, yes… I missed you as well, Alfred. Aren't you going to invite me in?" Alfred released the Brit in surprise.

"O-oh! Come in, Arthur!" Arthur stepped through the doorway, glancing back at the boy. Lord, had he grown.

"I didn't expect you," Alfred said embarrassedly, in explanation of the sloppy conditions of the house.

"Well, lad, that's the point of a surprise visit," Arthur chuckled. Alfred blushed as they meandered toward the parlor. During this, Arthur got a good view of what Alfred was wearing.

It was mid-summer, at a sweltering 92° Fahrenheit, and Alfred had 'dressed' to the occasion. He wore pants converted into shorts, chopped at the knees, and a dark tank top clinging to his sweaty shoulders.

"Do you want anything?" he asked, as the Brit took a seat. He folded his legs and looked up.

"A spot of tea, if you have it," he replied. The young American nodded and disappeared into the hallway, leaving Arthur to admire his house. It was petite, quaint, with the appeal of a small plantation. It was a smidge messy, of course; that was the nature of Alfred, but overall, it was quite lovely. His furniture was vintage, with knobbed feet and beautifully carved legs. A fireplace full of ashes created a homey feel.

"I forgot how you like your tea, sorry," Alfred said, coming in with a steaming mug and a bowl of sugar. He set those on the coffee table and hurried out. When he returned, he held a pitcher of cream. Arthur began to prepare his tea, glancing at Alfred.

"Are you not having anything yourself?" he asked. Alfred shook his head.

"Naw, I'm good." Arthur sipped his tea.

"So what have you been doing, Alfred?" he asked, setting his cup down gently, "Since you returned to your home?"

"Well…" He began shyly at first, describing how he had gotten a job in the government and how he missed his friends that he had made overseas.

"But I'm managing," he concluded, smiling. Arthur offered a tender smile. This was rare. No biting comments? No sarcasm? He was being utterly sappy with his former student, and so unlike himself.

"Have…" Alfred began, the stopped. The Brit looked at him intently.

"Have what, lad?"

"Have you had supper yet?"

Arthur was surprised. "Why? What have you in mind?"

"W-well, if you wanted… we could go out and get something to eat," Alfred said, a light dusting of cerise adorning his cheeks. The Englishman studied his face slowly, and a smile broke free of his stoicism.

"That sounds perfectly lovely, Alfred."

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><p>They went to a fast-food restaurant, a small family-owned place, and despite those wretched burgers Alfred adored, there were various other dishes. Arthur settled on a fish and chips plate. They ate at a sticky picnic table, and Alfred seemed so happy, so… <em>liberated<em>.

"I really can't believe you came to see me," he said, grinning and sucking down his milkshake. Arthur chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Did you believe I was to never see you again?"

"Actually… yeah," Alfred said, and slowly, he set his drink down.

"Come now, I'm not heartless," Arthur replied, and what little tension in the air dissipated.

"Are you staying tonight?" Alfred asked.

"Yes; there are no flights to London currently, and pray tell, why should I only spend a day in a foreign country?" Alfred shrugged.

"So where are you staying?"

"Nowhere, currently-" Arthur began.

"Do you want to stay with me?" Alfred interrupted excitedly. Arthur chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Typical Alfred." He set his empty plate down. "But that sounds agreeable; thank you." Alfred grinned.

"Sweet." Arthur then rolled his eyes.

"You and your slang."

"I like it," the boy protested. Arthur folded his arms, but for once, he didn't argue.

He was mystified. Then sun had been dropping since they reached the small restaurant, and now it hung over the horizon like an orange beach ball. Now it illuminated the ends of Alfred's hair and gave him a halo of gold and warm angelic glow. He had taken off his glasses, and his eyes smoldered with orange and blue flame. It was, in a word, breathtaking. It was beautiful, stunning; Alfred looked godlike.

"Arthur… you okay?" He sounded severely concerned. Arthur started.

"Yes, yes…" he shook his head. "What were we discussing again?"

They went home earlier than either wanted, just so a place could be found for Arthur's sleeping quarters. His was placed beside the master bedroom, and Arthur ignored the fact that all he had was the suit he was wearing now with him.

"Aren't you going to unpack?" When Alfred asked that single question, Arthur was silent. Alfred stared at him for a moment, and then it hit him. He began to giggle.

"You didn't bring _anything_?" Arthur flushed lightly.

"I was dreadfully busy prior to my flight, and…" he trailed off and bristled like a cat at the look Alfred was giving him. "Don't look at me like that!"

"That's so unlike you!" he cackled, "You're so unprepared!"

"Sh-shut up!" Arthur stammered. Alfred grinned.

"You can borrow some of my clothes for tonight, and I can wash your suit for tomorrow."

"I do hope you mean dry-clean," the blushing Brit said as a last defense. Alfred was suddenly the flustered one.

"Wait… what's 'dry-cleaning'?" he asked, "Is that why my suits don't last?" Arthur face-palmed. He surely didn't skimp on Alfred's education, right? So why was he so foolish?

"Never mind… I'll make due." Arthur sat at the edge of his bed, glancing at Alfred.

"Can I sit near you?" Alfred asked. Arthur was taken aback.

_Of course. It's your house, isn't it_? "Certainly," he responded, and he slid over to one side. Alfred sat down beside him.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"I really missed you." Arthur started, and Alfred stared down at his lap. "I was afraid I wasn't gonna see you again." His voice began to get softer, before he fell silent all together.

Arthur looked toward his student, so open and vulnerable. He laid his heart out in front of him, wanting acceptance. If Arthur had been a lesser man, it would mean nothing. But he knew Alfred, knew how he was and what he did, and it pulled at his heartstrings.

He put an arm around the boy, pulling him closer.

"I missed you as well, lad." He rested his head on the American's shoulder, and the boy glanced over in shock.

"Arthur?" The Brit was hit by a wave of self-consciousness. _Was that wrong?_

Then Alfred leaned against Arthur, and to his surprise, he took the Brit's hand and entwined their fingers.

"I really, really like you, Arthur," he said softly, "Like, I was terrified when I left London. Afraid I could never see you again. Afraid I could never tell you how I felt." He turned his head, and Arthur started as he felt the soft press of lips against his cheek.

"Alfred…" Alfred turned away, flushed.

"I-I… sorry…" his cheeks were cherry, burning hot.

"Look at me, Alfred." The American turned, and he barely had time to register the hand on his cheek before lips met his. Arthur turned in his seat and leaned closer, and strong arms wrapped around his neck. He turned his head slightly, and his tongue pressed against Alfred's lips with want, and gained admittance easily.

Alfred pulled him down, on top of him, forcing his tongue in deeper, made soft noises and grunts as their kisses grew more frenzied. They broke for air, and Alfred looked up at the figure above him.

"Oh, God… This isn't how it's supposed to happen... right?" Arthur stared at him pensively, and Alfred bit his lower lip. "It's not… so sexual…"

"Then maybe we're not normal," Arthur replied seductively, and he leaned down for another rough kiss.

"Mm… Arthur…" he felt Arthur's thighs against his, and something sparked in him. He bucked upward, forcing their hips together, and the Brit groaned in appreciation.

Self-control was discarded, followed by shirts and pants. Arthur's fingers slipped past the waistband and around the younger man's half-hard erection. Alfred moaned.

"God, _yes_…" he bucked his hips upward with a moan. He craved more friction, more pressure, but Arthur was just teasing him with feathery touches. "Ngh… d-don't tease…"

"Is this your first time?" Arthur whispered huskily, running his thumb over the slit and collecting the pearl of precum that had formed. The American flushed.

"O-of course not! Ngh…" Arthur chuckled.

"Oh, really?" he purred, running his thumb down the underside of his erection. Alfred gritted his teeth, and his arms tightened around Arthur's neck.

He felt like he was going to burst when Arthur stopped.

"Don't need to ruin the fun early," he whispered, peeling Alfred's shorts down entirely. Alfred shivered and bucked.

"Alfred." Arthur shimmied out of his final layer. "Here's a question I never thought to ask."

"W-what is it?" Alfred asked. He gasped when the Brit's throbbing need brushed his.

"How old are you?" he whispered, and Alfred cried out loudly as he took both of their shafts in his hand. He began to stroke them together.

"U-unh… n-nineteen," he groaned, tossing his head back and moaning loudly.

Arthur nearly stopped; he chuckled inwardly and slid a mixture of precum down Alfred's shaft.

"How… a-about you?" Alfred whimpered, and he bucked his hips up. Arthur cried out, startled, pleased, and rolled his hips against Alfred's.

"Twenty-seven," he whispered, and he released their throbbing shafts. The American stared at him in shock.

"Twenty-seven?" he asked incredulously. Arthur propped himself up.

"Yes, twenty-seven. You knew I was older than you." He leaned down for a brief kiss. "Do you have anything we can use as lubricant?" Alfred bit his lip in thought.

"I… I don't think… wait." He reached up, looking back, his muscles semi-flexed, and felt around for the nightstand drawer. "There should be…" he opened the drawer and felt around for a moment. Then his face lit up, and he drew out a small bottle. Arthur cocked a brow, and the man flushed.

"Don't ask…" Arthur chuckled softly and popped open the cap. The faint scent of cherries filled the air around them like a cloud.

Arthur spread it over his fingers generously, watching Alfred carefully.

"Spread your legs, lad." He obeyed, and the Brit eyed the small pucker greedily. He placed one hand on his hip, his thumb pressed along the junction of his hip and thigh. He placed his other hand between his thighs, his wet fingers teasing the little hole until Alfred was begging, thrusting his hips back needily.

The first finger slid in with minor difficulty, and other than Alfred's wincing, he didn't react.

"I'm surprised you haven't come yet," Arthur whispered, glancing down at the leaking member. The boy scowled indignantly, but the look was weakened by lust. He eased the second finger into him, and Alfred cried out.

"O-oh…" He clenched around his fingers, and Arthur moaned softly and jerked them back and forth. He spread them wider, trying to loosen him.

"Don't fight me," he hissed, as Alfred clenched down again, "It'll hurt more."

"C-can't help it," he whined.

"Then tell me how I can help," the Englishman whispered, leaning down for a tender kiss.

"Mmm…" Arthur's other hand came up and began to stroke him slowly. "O-oh!" While he writhed with pleasure, Arthur slid a final finger in. He spread his fingers and began to rub the inner walls.

"A-annnh~!" His moans were music, crescendoing and decrescendoing as Arthur teased his body into extreme arousal. "J-just fuck me…. hnnnh~! Please!"

Arthur chuckled and slipped his fingers out of his former student, watching him writhe and moan wantonly. Then he poured more lotion into his hand and slicked up his throbbing shaft. Alfred looked back and bit his lip slightly.

"Does… does it hurt?" he asked nervously. Arthur refrained from calling him out, instead shaking his head.

"At first. But the pleasure outweighs the pain, and I'll make it hurt less." He wiped the excess lotion onto the sheets and pulled Alfred back toward him, hands on his hips, baring that petite pucker.

Slowly, Arthur pushed in. He took one hand off Alfred's hip and began to stroke him slowly.

"Aaah-h! A-Arthur!" Tears formed in his eyes, and he clenched the sheets. Arthur leaned forward and kissed him slowly as he fed him his shaft.

"Ngh…" Tears leaked down American cheeks despite all of his efforts. "H-hurts…"

"I know, I know… almost…" Arthur was panting, trying to keep control, but it felt _so_ good!

He finally sheathed himself in Alfred entirely, hanging his head.

"Alfred… Lad… tell me when…" He leaned down and peppered kisses across his chest and throat. He released his erection, bringing his hand to his face and licking the salty liquid from his fingers and palm. Alfred groaned weakly at the sight.

"Arthur… Mmnnngh~" The pain began to recede and was replaced by a full feeling. He bucked his hips back with a groan. "Move!"

Arthur began slowly, acclimating the young man, but soon Alfred was impatient.

"I'm not fragile, Arthur!" He gasped when Arthur suddenly slammed his hips forward.

"I know," he said matter-of-factly. He picked up the pace, jerking his hips against Alfred's, abusing that tight passage with an insatiable hunger. Their bodies rocked together beautifully, easily, emitting moans and mewls of desire. Nails raked down tender backs, fingers dug into hips, wet skin slapped against wet skin. Arthur leaned down for a fiery kiss.

The most delicious, wanton sounds erupted from Alfred as he thrust back, muscles taut as he scrambled for self-control.

"Ohh, God… A-Arthur! Harder!" Arthur was more than eager to comply, his hips colliding with the American's with bruising force. Alfred moaned louder, cursing with every breath, pleading, begging. His climax was speeding toward him, pooling in his stomach and coiling almost painfully.

"Nggh_… _hanh_, _hanh… A-Arthur! I, annh… _close_!" Blood trickled from under his fingertips, streaming down the Brit's back like water.

"Come for me, Alfred," he hissed, "S-scream my name!"

He did. With an explosive wail, Alfred's hips jerked and he covered their stomachs with his climax, moaning out Arthur's name. His fingernails drew more blood as all of his muscles tightened.

"A-Arthur…. Unnnhhh…" His head fell weakly to one side, his chest heaving as Arthur approached his finish. Alfred had contracted around him, and this wonderful pressure nearly drove Arthur mad.

"Alfred…!" he fully sheathed himself before he spilled his semen, groaning loudly. For a moment, he touched heaven. His head tilted back, his eyelids fluttering, and he let Alfred's spasming passage milk him dry.

He released Alfred's hips and supported himself on the mattress, leaning over the man tiredly. Alfred leaned up and pressed a tired kiss to his lips. Sweat had plastered their hair to their foreheads, and small trickles ran down the sides of their faces.

"That was… amazing…" Alfred murmured breathily. Arthur smiled and pulled his softening member from the American.

"Yeah. It was." He eased himself from the bed. "Where's your bathroom?"

"Why?"

"I'm gonna clean us up," Arthur said. Alfred was upright in seconds, looking slightly pained.

"Then let's take a shower."

The Englishman was surprised at his energy. First time, and he was already up? "Are you aiming for Round Two?" he asked, grinning. The response was a devilish grin and wink, and before either of them knew it, they were tasting each other's tongues under the warm spray of water.

Arthur's one day visit lasted a week as he spent as much time as possible with the boy.

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><p>Sooo... yeah. I dun know what to say about this... Like? Hate? Please tell me? *shiny eyes of a 5 year old!* R&amp;R <em>pour moi<em>? PLEASE? ... I'm still not begging... *angry crimson flush*


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